


Sterek Goes Wedding Crashing

by ArthurShmarthur



Series: Sterek Goes... [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, Wedding, lame jokes, old people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 23:05:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1796593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArthurShmarthur/pseuds/ArthurShmarthur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is taking Derek on a date but Derek doesn't know what they're doing. Stiles may not know either, but it should be fun!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sterek Goes Wedding Crashing

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive the formatting problems, I can't be asked to fix too much of it as I just copy/paste from Word. Yes, I'm lazy - deal with it.

“Where are we going?” Derek asked for the one-zillionth time. “And why do I have to wear a tux?”

Stiles opened the bathroom door to see Derek Hale in a pair of black tuxedo pants and a half-tucked white dress shirt fiddling with his bow-tie. “All will be revealed, young padawan.”

Derek turned to look at him but he had slammed the door again. He growled, “Stiles…” there was no response from the hotel room bathroom. He should be used to this sort of spontaneity from Stiles by now, but it still puts him on edge; Derek likes plans – at the very least a destination.

He pulled the bow-tie taught and looked at its catawampus and asymmetrical appearance. Letting out a sigh, he flopped onto the bed. “I give up.” He said almost inaudibly into the pillows. Derek heard the bathroom door open and Stiles approach but laid there, defeated.  
Stiles rested a hand on the small of his back, “Come, on. It’s going to be fun. Trust me. Have I ever led you astray?” his face scrunched together and he quickly added, “Don’t answer that.” He tucked in Derek’s shirt tails and prompted him to turn over.  
“This is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?” he glared at Stiles.  
The boy smirked, “Only if I let you leave this room with your bow-tie like that.” He leaned in and gave Derek a light kiss on the lips. “Now, come on or we’ll be late.”

The taxi pulled up to the edge of a park, Derek wasn’t familiar with the San Francisco Bay area and couldn’t be sure which park this was or why they were there in tuxes. “Stiles?”  
“This is perfect,” he said to the driver and handed him the fare. “Come on, sour-wolf.” And then he pushed Derek out his side of the cab and followed in an awkward tripping motion.  
Derek could hear music coming from the park somewhere – the hedges surrounding it obscured his view – it sounded like, no, not like, it was ‘Love Shack’ by the B-52s. And that’s when the wheels inside his head grinded to a halt and put the puzzle pieces together. Tux + 2pm + Park + Love Shack = Wedding. “So, why wouldn’t you just tell me we’re going to your friend’s wedding? Whose is it, by the way?”  
Stiles grinned mischievously and pulled a newspaper clipping from his jacket. “Let’s see, ‘Announcing the wedding of Mr. John Herbert and Ms. Olivia Mar.’” He paused to appreciate the look of horror washing over Derek’s face, “I think I’ll be Olivia’s college roommate. You’ll be my lover, of course.” He looped their arms, winked, and began walking toward the entrance of the park.  
“Stiles, you know this is going to fail, right?”  
He smirked, “Just follow my lead.”  
The two gentlemen approached a man standing before a podium dressed in a tux as well. He looked up and greeted them, “Good afternoon, are you two here for the Herbert/Mar wedding reception?”  
Stiles smiled at the maître d, “Yes, we are.” He tilted his head and squinted his eyes, looking past the host. “Oh my god! Is that Julie?” He let go of Derek’s arm and bolted into the reception area toward a woman in a purple dress shouting Julie the entire way.   
Derek and the host exchanged confused glances, Derek’s mouth agape as he shrugged. The maître d looked back toward Stiles and after a moment of ridiculous arm flailing and a chorus of laughter, he walked back to the entrance. “It wasn’t Julie.” He chuckled and patted the host on the back, glancing at the guest list as he did so. “Anyway, where were we?”  
The host smiled somewhere between anxious and genuine. “Uh, right. Your name, sir?”  
“I’m Andrew Roberts, and this is the plus one.” He wrapped an arm around the waist of a confused looking Derek.  
He scanned the list, “Ah, here you are Mr. Roberts. Enjoy the celebration.”  
“Oh, we will. Thank you. I was the bride’s roommate in college – this girl is wild, let me tell you. I remember this one time we were at a country western bar, riding the bull -“  
Derek cut him off, “Come on, Andrew, he doesn’t want to hear about this; save your reminiscing for the other guests.” He nudged him toward the tables and smiled politely at the maître d.  
The garden was lavishly decorated in cream and purple flowers and table cloths and banners and bridesmaid dresses. “Did we step into an 80s prom movie?” Stiles whispered, “Seriously, look at the shoulder poof on those dresses. Why? Just why?” The two shared a laugh as they headed toward the bar.  
Stiles leaned against the bar, crossing one leg in front of the other and gave Derek a cocky smile, “So, this is going to fail, is it?”  
Derek rolled his eyes, “Getting in is just half the battle. What happens when the real guest shows up?”  
He waved his hand in Derek’s direction, “Quit worrying.” Stiles turned to the bartender, “Two whiskeys on the rocks, please.”   
Stiles watched him pour the drinks as Derek surveyed the crowd. It was a big wedding. The wedding party alone was 30 people. Maybe they would pull this off. Plus, it’s an open bar and who can argue with that?  
He handed Derek a tumbler of whiskey, “A toast?”  
A smile crept across his normally frowning face, “A toast.” He raised his glass and Stiles followed suit. “To the bride and groom.” They laughed as they clinked their glasses and then took a drink.   
An older couple at the bar next to them turned and smiled, “Having a good time, boys?” the gentleman asked.  
“Oh, yes, quite. I’m just so happy for Olivia and John. They really deserve all of the happiness in the world.” Stiles crooned.  
The old woman smiled, “And how do you two know the bride and groom?”  
“I went to college with Olivia.” Stiles said, then smiled as he took a drink.  
There was a pause just a bit longer than socially acceptable as the old couple looked at the two of them, “Oh. Right. And I’m his plus one.” Derek let out a bit of a chuckle. “We met after college so I’ve never met Olivia but I’ve heard stories.” He sipped on his drink.  
The old man turned to his wife, “I didn’t know Olivia went to college, did you?” Stiles and Derek exchanged a quick glance, Derek could feel the burn of the whiskey as he swallowed prematurely.   
The woman turned to her husband and hit him lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t you remember, Harry? We paid for it for Christ’s sake!” she took a large swig of the glass of red wine she was drinking, lipstick building up around the rim.  
Harry laughed, “Oh, that’s right! Olivia, our granddaughter. You know how my mind is sometimes, Margery.” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in for an adorable old people kiss on the cheek. Derek and Stiles could feel the tension leave their shoulders as they smiled politely.  
“So you two must be the grandparents Olivia was always talking about. I’ve heard so many nice things about you both. I’m glad to finally meet you.” He smiled and held his hand out to Harry and then Margery. “And how is that dog of yours?”  
Derek’s eyes flickered toward Stiles, what is he doing? And that’s when he spotted it: the old woman’s black sweater had some white hair at the bottom trim of it. He took in a long controlled breath through his nose, smelling for traces of animals. It was difficult to sort through the ménage of perfumes, colognes, and food, but just under that there was a hint of a dog on this woman. Probably a small dog. But how did Stiles know that?  
“Oh!” Margery shrieked, “Mr. Bobos is doing wonderfully! We brought him with us but the park doesn’t allow pets – can you believe that? A park that doesn’t allow pets.” She turned to her husband, “John never asks about Mr. Bobos, I like this boy.” Looked back at Stiles. “Why couldn’t our granddaughter have married you instead? So smart and charming and cute, too!” she looked toward Harry, “doesn’t he remind you of a younger version of your brother – may he rest in peace. Oh, Donald.” She sighed and crossed herself.  
Stiles laughed, “Oh, stop, you’re too nice. I’m so happy to hear Mr. Bobos is doing well. And unfortunately, your granddaughter doesn’t have quite what I’m looking for in a bride.” A slightly confused or offended expression crossed their faces – he couldn’t tell which – and then Stiles hooked his arm around Derek’s waist. Derek tried to hide his blush and smile in his drink.  
Harry smiled at the boys and looked at the confused look still on his wife’s face, “This nice young man doesn’t play for Olivia’s team, dear.”  
“Harry, what are you even talking about? Olivia hasn’t been on a team sport since high school. That’s it when we get back home I’m scheduling you another appointment with Dr. Mahealani –“  
“Oh, hush woman. They’re gay, it’s not my memory this time.”  
She looked at them, the hand placement, the closeness, and then smiled. “Well, I knew that.” She took a drink of her wine with an indignant look on her face as Stiles and Derek both flushed in embarrassment. “Now, come on Harry we should go talk to those pathetic parents of John’s. It was a pleasure to meet you both.” And she walked off toward the dais.  
“Well, that’s my queue, boys.” He winked at them and followed his wife obediently.  
Derek looked at Stiles and began to laugh. Stiles joined in quickly after. “Oh, god, that was good.”  
“It was. But how did you know they had a dog?”  
“The hair at the bottom of her sweater.” He smirked and took a drink.  
“Yeah, but what if it had been a cat?”  
“Did you see that sweater? It was like 100% cashmere. If they had a cat there would be hair all over it, not just the fringe.” He chortled at his own joke.  
Stiles never ceased to amaze Derek. He put his hand to Stiles’ chin and pulled him into a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I can probably add more to this, but I feel it has a cute ending spot. So if the need is great enough, I may continue it.
> 
> <3


End file.
